Til Kingdom Come
by tasha.black
Summary: A darkness festers in the shadows, threatening to overcome the peace. The Auror department is slowly dwindling in numbers, and the Ministry refuses to accept the oncoming storm as reality. Scorpius finds himself lost in the turmoil, and while he fights to keep the darkness at bay, three words spoken by the person he hates most, gives him a reason to keep fighting.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Scorpius rushed into St. Mungo's hastily tying a makeshift bandage fashioned from his torn shirt around his forehead. The blood needed to be stopped before he passed out. He flashed his Auror badge to the witch at the front desk, and walked as fast as he could to the elevators. After the second Great Wizarding War, St. Mungo's had made renovations to the hospital. It had been almost impossible to find rooms for all the injured soldiers who had fallen during the battle at Hogwarts those thirty years ago. During the reconstruction that took place, the Ministry of Magic had overseen the building of the Auror's ward at St. Mungo's to more efficiently heal those who needed medical attention immediately; namely the Aurors.

As he hit the button for the seventh floor, Scorpius found himself wishing, not for the first time, that the ward were closer to the ground. He was grateful for the Auror's ward, but it seemed stupid to him that the people who probably needed the quickest care, would have to wait for the lackadaisical elevators to crawl up seven floors. As he waited, Scorpius attempted to heal as many cuts and bruises has he could. He was starting to get light-headed as the elevator announced their arrival and the doors sluggishly tugged open.

Though it was protocol, he didn't flash his Auror badge at the medi-witch on desk duty. Instead, he threw her a wink that suggested she let him do more than just give him access into the Auror's ward. Even in his weakened state, Scorpius wouldn't pass up a chance to flirt. If anything, he thought he looked more dashing with his battle scars. Apparently, so did the medi-witch. She tugged a blonde curl out of her loose up-do, twirled her finger around it, and bit her lower lip as she tapped her wand to open the ward's doors for Scorpius. He smirked, as he walked into the ward, but immediately regretted doing so. Apparently smirking made the cuts and bruises on his face very painful.

Scorpius let himself into one of the changing rooms, and took off what was left of his ripped, bloodstained shirt. If they were physically able, wounded Aurors were expected to show themselves to a changing room and change into patient gowns to speed up the process of checkups. When Scorpius reached down to unzip his pants, he heard someone clear their throat behind him.

"Malfoy, I know you're desperate for some action in your life, but there really is a time and place to get some. I assure you this is neither the time _nor_ the place, so could you kindly make your way to your _own_ changing rooms?" Scorpius spun around to find honey colored eyes narrowed in contempt, an upturned nose, crinkled in disgust, and a plush mouth flattened into a thin line, all set on a tanned, lightly freckled face staring back at him; this face was otherwise identified as Rose Weasley. She had on a thin blue patients gown, and she looked quite beaten up herself. Scorpius took a few moments to collect his thoughts; he was still shocked that he was standing half naked in front of _Weasley_. He cleared his throat before responding.

"I assure you, _Weasley_," he said, spitting her surname out like it was week-old dung, "if I had known you were in here, I wouldn't have even touched the door. I don't think they have a cure for touching low-lives like you."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Oh grow up, will you Malfoy? You've been using that insult since we were twelve. You'd think after eight years, you might've grown half a brain. Then again, you _are_ a Malfoy. I was clearly expecting too much."

"Well I'm glad you're here Weasley. I hear they've finally found a cure for ugly."

"Ohhhh…where'd you hear that one Malfoy? From a three year old? Well, I'm glad you're here Malfoy. I think they've finally found a cure for shit-stupid."

"Oh you think you're so clever, don't you? Maybe you can ask the Healer if they've found a cure for being a _Weasley_."

"Well maybe—"

"Miss Weasley, I—" the Healer stepped into the room and stopped before the scene in front of her. Scorpius realized they must've looked absolutely ludicrous; him, half naked, his makeshift bandage soaked through with blood, his dirty blonde hair disheveled and unkempt; her, in a thin patients gown, her 5' 1" frame stretched as tall as possible, her fiery hair slipping from the messy bun atop her head, her small hands balled up into fists; both of them nose to nose, breathing as if they had just run a mile, both their faces red with rage, and both shouting as if they were no older than ten. Scorpius was immediately ashamed. He put some more distance between himself and Weasley as he grabbed his shirt from where it landed on the ground.

"I'll just be in the next room then…" he said quietly, trailing off at the end, his face reddening even more. As he stepped over the threshold of the room, Weasley piped up again.

"Oi Malfoy! Maybe you can ask the Healer to pull that stick out of your arse!" Scorpius clenched his fists, but did not stop walking. He was in no mood to give Weasley the satisfaction of getting under his skin. He made sure the next room was vacant before stepping in. He proceeded to change into the patient gown and waited for the nurse to show up. As it so happened, it was the pretty blonde from the front desk. She made a huge show of checking his vitals. She even cast aside her wand to check his pulse the Muggle way.

"The Muggle way is so much more accurate," she said as if it were a secret only those in the medical profession knew. My ass it's more accurate, Scorpius thought to himself. Nonetheless, he let her get closer to him and take his pulse. It was clear that Becka, (that was what she had told him to call her), was not very well versed in the art of subtlety. Or she just didn't feel like being subtle. She bent over slightly, pretending to get better access to his wrist. In the process, Scorpius got a full view down the front of her suspiciously low cut uniform. She's not even making me work, he thought.

On another day, he would've loved the open invitation and accepted it without second thought. However, he was still peeved and infuriated by his run-in with Weasley. He was in no mood to accept any favours from his nurse. Scorpius wasn't very good at letting down girls lightly. It was mainly because he didn't have much practice; almost any girl that showed the slightest interest ended up in some sort of relationship with him. Relationship being used in the loosest of definitions. Whether it was a one night stand, or a three month dating period, he'd never really been one to say no. His only rules were: you had to be pretty, and your surname could not be Potter or Weasley. Scorpius never started a relationship, he only ended them. He did not run after women, they came to him. This was how it always was.

But now was a rare exception to the rule. Scorpius was well aware that Becka was not in it for the long term. She was pretty, and she was not a Potter or a Weasley. But quite frankly, Scorpius was simply not in the mood. But how to reject her in a way that wasn't too hurtful, yet direct?

He blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, and regretted it almost immediately. "I'm a virgin!" He could feel his cheeks and the tips of his ears go hot. He mentally slapped himself. Unreal. Un-bloody-real. His two biggest prides were his skills as an Auror, and his ability in between the sheets. He'd been Hogwarts' resident Sex God, and here he was telling a very pretty woman that he was a virgin.

Time seemed to freeze as he gulped and tried to look as apologetic as he could. Becka withdrew her two fingers from his wrist and straightened up so that he no longer had a clear view of what she was offering. She cleared her throat awkwardly and picked up her wand again. She finished the rest of her checkup keeping a four foot distance between the two of them. After a few minutes, she tapped her clipboard and a full report of his health appeared.

"I'll let the Healer know how you're doing. She's checking Miss Weasley right now, so it'll be a few moments before she'll be in here." Becka swirled her wand and conjured up some reading material for him. "Something to keep you occupied," she said before leaving. Once the door had clicked shut, Scorpius sagged into his seat and ran an irritated hand through his hair. He tried to console himself by repeating, "It's just one girl," over and over in his head like some sort of mantra. A few minutes into his mantra, he heard a commotion from the other side of the wall. The wall that was adjacent to Weasley's room. He heard loud clattering, as if a chair had been thrown onto the stone floor. And then came the yelling. Scorpius crossed the room and pressed his ear against the wall to better hear the argument. He came away disappointed; it seemed as though St. Mungo's stuck to their patient confidentiality guarantee. Magic blocked the yelling from being discernable—all Scorpius got was an earful of loud noises and the static buzz of the magical barriers.

It was then that he realized that he still had his clothes with him. Scorpius had come directly from his Auror assignment to Mungo's to treat his injuries, so his tools were still hidden in his clothing. He tapped his wand and muttered an incantation. He immediately spotted what he was looking for amidst the Auror tools that had suddenly appeared on his clothing. He rushed over the wall, now with a standard issue Auror Extendable Ear, courtesy of the Weasley Wizard Wheezes' new line of Auror Stealth accessories. It was quite brilliant really, he had to hand it to George Weasley. Improvements had been made to the older Extendable Ears; the Auror version could break through magical barriers and was much more portable than its predecessor.

Scorpius kneeled in front of the wall and listened to the scene he could only imagine unfolding before him.

"It can't be! It's not possible! IT CAN'T BE!" That was definitely Weasley's voice.

"I'm so sorry darling. We've checked twice already, and our tests are never faulty. If you'd like—" Hannah Longbottom's attempts at mollifying Weasley were interrupted by Weasley's hysterical pleading.

"Check again, I beg of you! THIS CANNOT BE! Your tests must be faulty…please." Her voice shook at the end and then Scorpius could hear Rose's shallow breathing. He was shocked; all former feelings of anger and frustration had left his body. They had been replaced with pure, unadulterated shock. Rose Weasley never lost her cool. Rose Weasley never lost control. She was in control of every single thing that had ever happened in her life. If you messed with Rose Weasley, _you_ were the one that lost. That was just how it was. The only person she ever completely lost control with was him. But now…Scorpius could not believe it. Here he was, listening to Rose Weasley, who most certainly did not sound cool or collected; she sounded helpless, as if she had just been forced to sell her first born child's soul to the Devil. He pressed his Extendable Ear against the wall so hard that his knuckles went white.

"We are checking again Miss Weasley, but do not expect the results to be any different. If it says positive, then it most certainly means that the test is positive."

"I don't want it in me," Weasley said. Her voice was flinty and sharp. Her words were laced with venom and hardened with steel. "Get it out of me. Kill it. Take it out. It is not mine."

"Miss Weasley, this is not a decision that should be made in your current state. You should take this home and discuss it with your family. I know Hermione and Ron would want to speak with you about this."

"Not likely…" Rose muttered.

"Healer Longbottom, the test is positive," a new voice said. Probably a nurse, Scorpius thought.

"Rose dear," Healer Longbottom said in a soothing voice filled with emotion, "I'm afraid that you are beyond a shadow of a doubt, pregnant."

* * *

**It's been ages since I**'**ve written any fanfic, so go easy on me. Found this in my documents and I rather liked it, so here's the beginning to a story! Hopefully I'll finish it.  
Reviews please! As I have no idea in which direction I'll be taking this :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Scorpius withdrew his Extendable Ear from the wall. He didn't want to hear the rest of the conversation. In fact, he regretted eavesdropping. Now he simply couldn't get it out of his head. Rose Weasley, twenty years old, best Auror the Ministry had seen since Moody (yes, he admitted she was better than him), daughter of war heroes—Ron and Hermione Weasley, pregnant? It didn't seem like something she would do. She was not irresponsible. Not even a little. She was always punctual, never forgot a meeting, always had case files at the ready, she always prepared for everything that happened in her life. So why wasn't she prepared for this?

And then it hit Scorpius like a shit ton of bricks. He had seen Weasley just fifteen minutes ago himself. He'd seen the angry red finger marks on her throat, had seen her face littered generously with scrapes and bruises, had seen her legs shaking beneath her, almost as if refusing to support all 102 pounds of her. He had seen the signs, but he was too busy yelling at her to put them together. As much as he hated Rose Weasley, he knew that she didn't deserve this.

To be clear, Scorpius did not have a soft spot for Weasley. He hated her because she was a know-it-all, she walked around like she owned the world, she always thought that it was her way or the highway, and her surname made her entitled to almost anything. Scorpius had to work twice as hard for everything he got in life. _His _surname had the opposite effect in society; the Malfoy name had been dragged in the dirt and now Scorpius was the one with the responsibility to dust it off and try to present it with it's previously held splendor. Their rivalry existed because they both knew that they were perfectly matched for each other—they both knew that they were brilliant and deserving of the same praise. Grudging respect, was what they gave each other. No one else had ever been a worthy opponent to either of them.

Scorpius couldn't help but feel sorry for Weasley. If she found out that he was feeling sympathy for her, she would probably hex him into the next century. She never really accepted pity from anyone, not even that overly large Potter-Weasley family of hers. But it didn't change the fact that Scorpius really did feel bad for her.

He settled back into his seat and hid his Extendable Ear in his clothes. He flipped through the magazines that Becka had left him with, his mind reeling with the fact that Rose Weasley was pregnant.

When Healer Longbottom finally walked in ten minutes later, she apologized for the wait. Scorpius waved away the apology and continued to mull over the news as she fixed him up. He choked down a glass of SkeleGrow before thanking Healer Longbottom and leaving. He changed back into his half decimated clothes and exited the ward, still consumed by his thoughts, when he ran into the object of his musings. He immediately reached out to steady her already wobbly frame, and watched as she attempted to put up a strong façade.

"Watch yourself Weasley," Scorpius said without any venom. He wasn't in the mood to give her a hard time. She didn't need it right now. But Weasley didn't know that he knew about her delicate situation. She squinted up at him as if she was waiting him to say something extremely insulting. He held her gaze for a few seconds. He couldn't help but look at her with some of the sympathy he was feeling. But he didn't let that show for too long. When it was apparent that neither one was going to say anything to the other, they both walked towards the elevators at the same time.

Both were heading back to Headquarters to report to the Head of the Department about how their separate missions went. They proceeded there in complete silence, both lost in their own thoughts about the same topic.

~:-:~

Scorpius held the door open for Weasley as they both entered the Head Auror's office. They both took a seat and waited as Ginny Potter finished scribbling out a memo. When she sent the memo on its way, she reclined in her chair and pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut, as if willing all her troubles to simply vanish once she opened her eyes again. Ginny Potter's once shiny auburn hair had lost its lively luster, and was now peppered with gray strands. The corners of her eyes had crow's feet. Proof that she used to smile and laugh once upon a time.

Harry Potter's death had affected the whole wizarding community, but as far as Scorpius could tell, Ginny had attempted to put up a strong front for everyone. Scorpius thought it would probably be better if she just cried it all out; contrary to popular belief, Scorpius thought crying was much healthier than bottling up grief. He knew from experience. After a few seconds, Ginny snapped back to attention and summoned both Scorpius' and Rose's case files to her desk.

"Let's see. So you were both deployed out to missions three days ago. Same time in fact… Oh now this is interesting." She had both files open on her desk, and she was looking between the two record sheets as if comparing the information there.

"Well, it seems as though you were both deployed out to the same mission. Same time frame, same target, same everything. And you both didn't run into each other?" Both Rose and Scorpius shook their heads. "That is truly odd…odd indeed."

"Well if I may, ma'am," Scorpius cut in. "We were under glamours and Polyjuice. So even if we were to run into each other, we wouldn't have known it."

"Malfoy's right. We very well could have run into each other, but we would've had no idea," Weasley affirmed.

"Right so this mission was assigned to you by Shacklebolt? Well he must've really had high hopes for the two of you. We've been trying to catch Theodore Nott ever since—" she broke off and composed herself. "—ever since Harry's and Draco's death. Did either of you successfully infiltrate their ranks?" They both nodded. No surprises there, we're the best, Scorpius thought. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief and her eyes were shining with unshed tears. But she quickly gathered herself; she was back to business so fast that Scorpius thought the tears he had seen in her eyes were merely a trick of the light.

"It says here you both just came from Mungo's? Healer Longbottom has not yet updated your files about your medical conditions. Any serious injuries or conditions I should know about?" Ginny looked between Scorpius and Rose, squinting as if she could diagnose them just by looking them over.

Scorpius suddenly felt rather uncomfortable, knowing exactly what was coming. He could practically feel the waves of apprehension rolling off of Weasley. She took a deep breath before spurting it all out in a jumbled mess.

"Theodorenottrapedmeandtheniwentpsychoonhimandcuto ffoneofhisearsandalsobrokeafewofhisribsbutanywaysi mpregnantbutidontwantobesoitsgoingtobeaborted." Scorpius was amazed by her lung capacity, but at the same time he was impressed at the fact that she didn't bother beating around the bush. She was sitting on the edge of her seat, her face was flushed and she had a slightly manic look about her.

Ginny's expression changed from confusion to slight understanding to realization to shock and then to sympathy all in the span of thirty seconds. She leaned heavily back into her chair and stayed silent for a few minutes. And then she looked up at Rose with what could only be described as sympathy in its purest form. Scorpius could see Rose squirming under the look her aunt was giving her. Rose Weasley hated sympathy, even if it was for something like this.

"Dear, I'm so so _so_ very sorry," Ginny said, her voice cracking with emotion. She leaned forward and grabbed Rose's right hand off the desk and placed it in between both of hers. "I had no idea—if I had known—I can't believe he—"

"Aunt Ginny," Rose cut her off and pulled her hand away from her aunt's. "It's alright. I'm alright. I just want to be cleared to continue with my field work. There's still so much more to be done." Ginny looked taken aback aat her neice's unexpected lack of sadness. It was as if she had expected her neice to break down crying in her office. Hell, Scorpius wouldn't have minded if she had broken down crying. It would've been normal. But this—this indiffereance, as if Rose had merely fallen and scraped her knee—well, it was scary, quite frankly.

"Honey, have you told your parents yet?" Ginny asked Rose in that tone people use to address abused puppies. Rose was having none of it.

"No, it's not like they'll care anyways. Aunt Ginny, every second we waste here is a second that _he_ gains. Please, just sign our release forms and let me go do my job."

"Of course they care sweety! You're their daughter. They'd want to know—"

And that was when Rose Weasley snapped. "Yeah just like they cared about Hugo and I before they split up, right? Just like Mum cared before she had that affair and before Dad cared before he "accidentally" jumped off that bridge, right?" Rose was breathing hard, but her voice had remained dangerously low. Scorpius felt unbelievably out of place, and he had a feeling that the two Weasley women had forgotten his presence altogether. He was also shocked. Shocked to hear Rose speak about her parents with such absolute loathing. Scorpius was appalled that the Weasleys weren't all that they seemed. He was pulled out of his musings when a suddenly enraged Ginny Weasley stood up and raised an accusing finger at her neice.

"How dare you talk about your parents that way, young lady! They have done nothing but take care of you as you've grown up, and this is how you speak about them? Who kept you away from the paparazzi, huh? Who protected you from the people who threatened to take away all semblances of privacy in your life? Who—"

"They did that to protect themselves! Hugo and I were never in the picture! It was all about keeping _their_ lives off the tabloids, but they were never around for us when we needed them! Who cleaned up my scrapes when I fell? It was my nanny! Who was there when I lost my first tooth? My nanny. Who did my boyfriend come home to meet? My nanny! Who had to hand me my diploma at Hogwarts? MY FUCKING NANNY! Do NOT try to tell me that my parents cared. The never did."

Scorpius had his wand out faster than anyone else and cast a quick shield charm between the two redheads. He knew he had done right when he saw a jet of purple light, coming from the Head Auror's wand. As the hex dissolved into the shield, both Weasley women turned to Scorpius and eyed him with anger and confusion. Clearly both witches had forgotten that he was there. He cleared his throat awkwardly, and addressed his boss, "Ma'am, I hate to be the one to say this, but this is your _neice_. You cannot attack her like this, and especially not at work. Please, I don't want to be witness to manslaughter." Then he turned to Weasley Jr. and gave her a look that he had given her many a time throughout school. It was a look that said _sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up. _To his extreme surprise they both listened. Granted, there were a few colorful curses muttered under their breath, but they complied nonetheless. Scorpius waited for a good two minutes before letting down the shield.

Ginny Weasley cleared her throat and collected herself before starting again. "Auror Weasley, I'm afraid I cannot clear you for duty because of your newfound health complication. You have two options: get a legal abortion and present me with the paperwork after it is done. Or, you may wait out the duration of your preganancy, and have this child. However, if you choose the latter, you will not be eligible for field duty because we cannot risk the life of an unborn child. Please let me know your decision, whichever it may be, by the end of this week." At this point, she turned to Scorpius and looked over his file briefly before addressing him. "Auror Malfoy, it seems to me that everything is in order for you to continue your field work. I want you to report to Auror Shacklebolt tomorrow morning for you to receive your next assignment." Scorpius nodded and made to get up. "Hold on, both of you," Ginny said. "I need fully detailed reports from the both of you regarding your latest assignment. I want them on my desk by this time next week. Now you may go."

As they left the Head Auror's office, Scorpius held the door open for Rose Weasley for the second time that day. That was two more times than he had ever hoped to do so in his life.

* * *

**Ok. I hope I didn't disappoint :|**

So question of the day: Should Rose get an abortion? Why or why not?  
Leave it in the reviews!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"The usual," Scorpius told Joe. The tired, bald bartender nodded and turned to pour Scorpius a glass of smooth whiskey on the rocks. Scorpius slid him some muggle money, and took a sip of his drink in silence. He liked the anonymity that muggle bars bought him. He didn't have to worry about some stupid Prophet writer spying on him at the end of the day. One minute he'd be drinking a glass of Firewhiskey, and the next morning the Prophet would turn him into a raging alcoholic. That and he would've apparently started a bar-side brawl. None of which actually happened of course. Muggle bars were just easier. Plus, muggle drinks were stronger than Firewhiskey. That, and muggle birds were easier to snag.

Scorpius surveyed his prospective lays as he continued to sip at his drink. As his eyes feasted on pretty girl after pretty girl, he realized he was just not in the mood. The events of earlier that day had put him off. He wanted to not care, but it was hard. He couldn't help but wonder what Weasley would choose. Weasley, the perfect daughter, sister, friend, Auror—the "perfect" girl. The Prophet had never found a reason to mess with her. She never gave them a chance—top of the class at Hogwarts, no scandalous relationships, and now top-notch Auror. Pregnant-at-age-22 didn't quite fit in with the golden image she had maintained for the press. "For the press" being the key words. Scorpius was still in shock after learning about the truth behind the Weasley family. So many thoughts rushed through his head, and he decided finally to go back to his flat. Maybe Albus could put him at ease.

Scorpius grimaced as he realized that his flat mate would have to hear the news of Weasley's pregnancy. There was no telling how he'd take it. Scorpius downed the rest of his drink and got up from the barstool. He nodded his thanks to Joe, slung his leather jacket over his shoulder, and left the bar. As he stepped over the threshold into the frigid November air, he wondered, not for the first time that night, if Weasley had made her decision yet.

~:-:~

Rose lifted her fist up to the door and put it down for a third time. She had been standing in front of the Burrow's doors for the past five minutes, unable to announce her arrival. She was still warring with the idea of telling her parents, because in all honesty, she could not see why everyone expected them to suddenly give two shits about her wellbeing.

She had told Hugo just before, and he (being the most amazing and supportive little brother Rose could ever ask for) wrapped her in a tight embrace and smoothed down her hair, like she had done for him many a time. It was in this moment that Rose finally allowed the tears to escape. For the first time since hearing the news, Rose allowed herself to feel something. She wept because it was unfair, she wept because it was cruel, and she wept because the unborn child she was carrying didn't deserve the harsh reality that its life would bring. It was in Hugo's arms that she had made her decision. After her tears had been spent, Hugo sat her down and they discussed the issue over a cup of tea. Tea made exactly like Grandma Weasley made it.

At first, Rose had considered keeping the child. It wasn't the baby's fault that it was conceived, it didn't ask to be born. But then, as she continued to mull over the implication, she changed her mind. For what child would want to be born with a lunatic, supremacist, fascist, homicidal, madman as a father and a single, overworked, stressed out, incompetent mother? She would never be able to look into her child's eyes and not be reminded of the horrible reason for which it born. The child would be a constant reminder of the three hours in which Rose was tortured and used in ways that no human should ever have to endure. She knew if she kept the baby, it would only remind her of that terrible night, and she would never be able to fully love it because of this. The child would live a miserable life, and Rose did not want to be responsible for that.

So it was with this logic that Rose had told Hugo her decision. At first, Hugo was adamant that she re-think her decision. "A life is a life," he kept saying, as if it were as simple as that. But as she continued to argue her point, even Hugo came to realize that this was not as simple as life and death. This was a question of being able to give someone else a life worth living. And Hugo knew that the child would be born into a cursed existence. And it was with that realization that Hugo agreed with his older sister. As they parted ways, Hugo made Rose promise that she tell their parents. He had even offered to come along with her. But Rose, ever the independent one, promised to tell them and politely declined his offer. With a last hug, she left Hugo's flat, but not before he told her to visit more often. He was afraid that Rose was becoming a stranger.

Rose, recalling her promise to her favorite brother, finally knocked on the door to her grandparents' house. She had owled her mum to come to the Burrow as soon as she could. Rose's father had been living in the Burrow ever since he and Hermione had separated. They still kept the house that Rose had grown up in, so the Prophet didn't suspect anything, but no one had step foot inside that house in years. Excluding the house elves, of course. After treating Ron Weasley for his depression, St. Mungo's had cleared him to live with his parents on the condition that he attend bimonthly checkups and he have significant amount of time away from his wife. Both conditions were met, and one Ronald Bilius Weasley had made full recovery. He had often asked to see his children, but Rose, being as busy as she was, did not get very many chances to come down and visit. Hugo visited his father every week and had dinner with the Weasleys every Friday evening. Depending on whether or not Rose was in a life threatening situation, she would try to make it to dinner.

So it didn't come as a surprise when Grandpa Weasley opened the door and wore a mask of utter shock upon seeing his most evasive granddaughter on his front porch. No one had warned him, it seemed, that Rose would be coming round for dinner on a Wednesday night. After overcoming his initial shock, Arthur Weasley allowed a smile to grace his old, sincere features. "Rosie! How's my favorite flower?" Rose allowed a small giggle to escape her, and she realized with a pang, she sorely missed her family. Grandpa Weasley opened his arms wide and waited for her to step into his embrace. But Rose, perpetually on duty, shook her head subtly.

"Grandpa, you've got to ask me the question." Arthur Weasley adopted a blank look before realizing his mistake. He dropped his arms to his sides and took a few steps back into the house.

"Erm—what did Grandma Weasley and I get you for your very first Christmas?"

Rose smiled at the memory and touched her collar before answering, "A silver rose pendant. Which I still wear, by the way." She smiled brightly at her sweet Grandfather before asking him a question.

"What does Grandma Weasley hate about Bill?"

Grandpa Weasley chuckled as he answered, "The fact that he _still_ wears an earring and wears his hair long." Rose laughed and wasted no time in throwing herself into her Grandfather's waiting embrace. He still smelled like everything she missed: Grandma Weasley's cooking, the spicy aftershave that almost every Weasley man used, honeysuckle, and the Burrow. She inhaled deeply before letting him go. She pretended she didn't see the tears in his eyes as she took his hand and walked into the kitchen.

"Molly! Molly, my love, guess who turned up at our door?" Grandma Weasley turned around from the sink, and all the dishes stopped washing themselves. Her mouth dropped open in shock, but she recovered faster than her husband. She made her way towards Rose so fast, that Rose had to brace herself for the massive hug that made her question why she had ever left in the first place. She felt tears forming, but she quickly held them back.

"Well, about time you decided to show up Miss Weasley. What do you have to say for yourself?" Typical Grandma Weasley, interrogating her before she could even catch her breath.

"I've been terribly busy, Grandma! I've had loads to do, and if you don't believe me, you can ask Aunt Ginny. It's been mission after mission nonstop. I haven't even had time for myself lately."

Grandma Molly "hmphed" and took off her apron. "I've told Ginny that she's overworking herself and the rest of the Aurors. I'm sure the people you're hunting stop to eat and sleep, so why shouldn't you?"

Rose laughed. "I wish it were that easy, Grandma. Anyways, has Mum come by?"

Both old Weasley heads turned to face Rose. "No. Why should she be here?" Grandma Weasley asked sharply. Rose looked at both of her grandparents and measured the situation carefully. She loved them dearly, and she would never want to see them hurt. But at the same time, they were worthy of her trust. She decided to tell them about her situation as well.

"Well you see, Grandma…"

"Rosie? Rosie is that you?" a disembodied, frail voice said from the staircase. "Rosie, please say it's you." A hopeful looking Ronald Weasley made his way downstairs and stopped upon seeing Rose's face. Before anyone could say anything, tears were running down his face as he rushed to embrace his only daughter. "Rosie, I haven't seen you in months. How is my favorite daughter doing?" Rose was surprised to feel some wetness on her cheeks. Looks like she wasn't completely in control of her emotions as she thought. She quickly wiped the tears away and beamed at her father. He looked well. The time away from home and mum seemed to have done him good.

"I'm so sorry I haven't come round to see you in such a long time. I've been unbelievably busy with work. And actually, I wanted to tell you something. It's related to work, and erm—I think we should just wait til mum gets here," Rose ended nervously. She had mentioned that mum would be coming in her letter to her father, but Grandma and Grandpa Weasley had no idea what this was about.

"Right, well we can just catch up over some tea while we wait," Ron suggested.

"Wait. I want to know why exactly _she_ is coming to my house. I don't want her anywhere near my son," Grandma Weasley asserted.

"I'm sorry, Grandma. But there's something I need to tell all of you. It's concerning my health and I wanted to tell you all—" Rose was interrupted by a knocking at the door. Realizing it was probably Hermione, Rose volunteered to answer the door. She swung open the door, and immediately pointed her wand in her mum's face (something she had wanted to do for a _very_ long time). "Who chose the name for my little brother?"

Hermione looked completely bewildered before she realized what was going on. "You did, Rosie." Rose lowered her wand and internally cringed at her mother's use of her nickname. She raised one of her eyebrows, indicating that her mother should also ask her a question. Hermione sighed before asking, "What did you name that cat that used to come by sometimes for scraps?"

Rose grudgingly smiled at the memory before answering, "Sirius. I called him Sirius." Hermione smiled briefly before stepping into the Burrow. Rose watched as her mother's eyes temporarily glazed over and a small smile graced her tired features. Crows feet crinkled the edges of her eyes and her hair was frizzier than ever. She had started wearing glasses, and her face was devoid of any makeup. She looked pretty terrible in Rose's opinion. It didn't look like she was living the life she claimed she wanted before the separation. She looked as shitty as Rose was feeling.

They made their way to the sitting room in an awkward silence. Once they arrived, three Weasley heads all turned to face Rose and the unwanted visitor. Rose realized she would probably be forced to play mediator, so she sat next to her father and let her mother take a seat in the single chair. No words were exchanged.

After three minute of excruciating silence, Rose decided to start. "So er—I just got back from a mission yesterday. I can't tell you what I was doing, because it's classified, but I was undercover and well—stuff happened." Eight eyes were on her and she knew she had their undivided attention. But how to break the news to them lightly? "IwasrapedbythetargetIwasstalkingandnowI'mheretote llyouthatI'mpregnant."

Hermione seemed to understand first, and she was at her daughter's side in a matter of seconds. She took a few calming breaths before speaking. "Rose, I need you to tell me exactly who did this to you, and I swear, I am going to make him so sorry he ever even _thought_ about touching a hair on your head." Rose was actually kind of scared by her mother's expression. She was also kind of scared by the fact that her mother cared. Rose was about to reply, when her father shot up from his seat and clutched his wand so tightly that his knuckles went white.

"Rosie, you tell your father _exactly_ where this sodding scumbag is, and I will rip him limb to limb and feed him to one of Hagrid's bloody blast-ended skrewts. I will skewer him and fry him til he bleeds and then cut him into thin slices—"

Ron's tirade was interrupted by Hermione "What your father means to say is, we're going to kill this bastard. Now tell us who he is." They waited intently for Rose to tell them exactly who had done this to her. Her grandparents were still processing what had happened. Grandpa Weasley kept opening and closing his mouth, and Grandma Weasley was making enough tea to feed a small army. And Rose, well Rose started crying. Bawling, actually. For the third time that day, Rose was in tears all thanks to her rotten, good-for-nothing family that apparently cared. Apparently it took a pregnancy caused by rape to make them suddenly care. Or (a small voice in Rose's head was spewing out nonsense) they had cared all along.

Rose rolled up into a ball and cried, and as she emptied out every single drop of water that her eyes could possibly hold, she felt warm arms encircle her from either side. And she stayed like that for a while. Just crying, with her parents hugging her, whispering soothing words. Words that healed her aching heart. They said five simple words that made coming to the Burrow seem like the best decision she had ever made. They told her, "It's going to be alright."

* * *

**Ok so I decided that I wanted Rose to like her parents. I didn't really want to turn her into this depressing mess. So there you go, she's gonna give her parents some lovin.**

Sorry nothing actiony happened in this chapter, but we needed some character development up in here.

Review, review, review! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Ron and Hermione were by no means getting back together, but they both knew that they had achieved some sort of fragile truce for the time being. Grandma Weasley had decided that they all discuss the latest development after dinner, and Rose seconded the idea. It was strange for Hermione, setting the table with her husband (for they had not technically divorced) whom she hadn't spoken to in two years. She cast furtive glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking. His vibrant red hair had lost its life, and it hung disinterestedly around his face. A bit longer than he used to keep it, it was also peppered with a few gray strands. She could tell it had been a while since he had last laughed. Then again, she too had found it hard to smile ever since she had learned of Harry's death. She should have been there for Ron when it happened, but Hermione, in a moment of mindless selfishness, had forsaken everything that was important to her and had withdrawn into herself. She stopped caring about everything. Except for her work.

She would spend hours upon hours at her research lab, pushing herself until she no longer could remember what her life used to be. She began sleeping at her office, and when she did go home, all she had to look forward to was yelling, broken dishes, and accusations. All were rightfully deserved, but at that time, Hermione felt as though she were under some unfair attack. Of course, hindsight was always 20/20 and she knew now that if it had been Ron in her place, she would've wanted answers as well. But with his accusations growing larger and larger by the day, Hermione decided to keep her silence, refusing to answer any questions about her whereabouts. Ron, of course, assumed the worst, and called her a "lying, cheating, slut" sending Hermione into a rush of tears and out of the house faster than anyone would've thought possible. She didn't bother trying to correct her husband, because it gave her some sort of sick satisfaction, making him believe that she was wanted by someone else. But in reality, she had nowhere to go.

And that was how Hermione Weasley slowly spiraled into a life of utter loneliness and mild depression. Hugo had visited her once, telling her that Ron had jumped off a bridge in an attempt to end his life. In that moment, Hermione wanted to rush to St. Mungo's and beg for forgiveness. But then Hugo told her not to come, that her presence would do no good for Ron. So it was this bit of news that kept her where she was, in her dingy flat above the Leaky Cauldron, working at some no-name bookstore, having quit her job at the lab. All the Weasleys refused to speak to her, and she completely understood why. But she desperately needed to speak to someone, so she had taken to sitting at Harry's grave, and simply talking.

It was oddly therapeutic, and she found herself healing this way. Though she never got a response, she felt as though he was truly there, listening and being there for her as he always had been. But as time went on, she ran out of things to say and she found herself missing him more than ever. On one particularly horrid day, she almost felt Harry next to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. He would smooth her frizzy hair down, and look down at her. "Mione," he would say. "You really should spend more time with the living. Do me a favor, and live a little. Go home to Ron and tell him you love him. You don't tell him nearly enough. And tell my beautiful niece and nephew that they should come round more often."

Hermione smiled and wrapped her arms around herself, wishing it were actually Harry that was hugging her. But then she realized that Harry was right, that she really did need to start living more. And that was when she got Rose's owl.  
_Dear Mum, _

_Come to the Burrow at around 7. Need to talk to you and Dad._

_ Sincerely, _

_ Rose_

_Sincerely_, she had signed. Not _love, _not _kisses_, like she had used to. A cold, unfeeling, _sincerely_, which probably wasn't even written with any sincerity at all. Yet, the note gave her hope. Maybe this was exactly the chance she needed to make amends.

Hermione looked up at Ron after she set the last plate down, this time not bothering to hide the fact that she was staring. He met her gaze questioningly at first, but after searching her eyes, he looked away as if he couldn't bear to look at her for any longer than was necessary. Hermione let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. She missed him so much, and loved him even more.

~:-:~

Rose couldn't pretend that everything was suddenly right as rain between her and her parents, but for the first time in years, she felt something other than hate towards them. Rose had also never felt so happy to be proven wrong. She enjoyed Grandma Weasley's cooking so much, that her father had to thwack her on the back after she had practically inhaled the mashed potatoes with such gusto that she began choking. This elicited laughter around the table, and she felt her heart lighten a little. This felt almost normal and it almost made her forget the reason she was there in the first place. Judging by how quickly everyone seemed to sober up, they too realized that today was not really a happy occasion.

As a general rule, Rose hated sympathy of all kinds. She didn't want it, and went out of her way not to get it, especially from her family. But for the first time ever (it seemed that these past few days were full of firsts for Rose) she actually wanted her parents' sympathy, because it meant that they cared. This almost made getting pregnant worth it.

Almost.

The rest of dinner was essentially silence, with Grandpa Weasley attempting to make small talk but then realizing that it was probably just easier to stay quiet. Once all the dishes were washing themselves in the sink, they all retreated to the sitting room where they had originally congregated.

Rose once again found herself clearing her throat awkwardly, and starting off with a "So…" But she was saved from the pain of approaching her situation thanks to her dear grandfather.

"I think you should keep it, Rosie," he said quietly, but rather suddenly. Four pairs of eyes rested tentatively on the oldest Weasley and waited for him to continue. He cleared his throat much like Rose had done a few seconds before, as he shifted in his seat so that he was facing his granddaughter. "It's a baby, after all. You're old enough to have one, and while I would gladly kill the man who did this to you, it's not the baby's fault." He looked around at everyone else, as if needing confirmation, before his eyes finally rested on Rose's.

"That's exactly what Hugo said," Rose told everyone with a small smile.

"Well, I disagree," Grandma Weasley piped up from Rose's other side. "I don't think you need a baby complicating matters much more. Firstly, you're much to stressed as it is. Having a baby will do nothing to lessen your headaches. Trust me, I've had six." She looked around threateningly at the people before her, as if daring them to say otherwise. "Secondly, being an Auror and all, it'll be hard for you to really be there for the child. I have no doubts that you'll make a brilliant mother Rosie, but you can't help if you have to be away most of the time. Considering the father won't be around to help you—" she paused here, and her family watched as her breathing grew heavier and her eyes attained a rather hard, flinty quality to them. "Well fuck that bastard anyways. Pardon my French." Rose found herself laughing with her father at her Grandmother's outburst.

"Anyways," Grandma Weasley continued, "It won't be your fault, but you won't even have time for the babe. That brings me to my third, and last point. Rosie, do you really think you can look at this child without being reminded of how it came about? What if the baby has his eyes, and his hair, and his cruel smile? What then? How can you possibly love a child like that?" She had eyes only for her pregnant granddaughter as she said this, and Rose was glad that someone else agreed with all the points she had brought up to Hugo. And then Rose turned to her parents, and raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"And what about you both?" she asked them, suddenly desperate to hear what they'd say.

"I think you should do whatever you feel best," Hermione said first, taking hold of Rose's hand. "I think a woman should decide for herself whether or not she wants to have children. I will not tell you what you should or shouldn't do because in the end, that is solely up to you. I will, however, tell you to strongly consider both sides of the argument. There are pros and cons to both. But I know you Rosie, and I know you'll make the best choice. I will support whichever one you choose," she ended with an encouraging smile.

"I agree with your mum," Ron added gruffly. "This is your choice, and I will completely support your decision. You're smarter than your mum" (Hermione shot him a reproachful look at this comment) "and much braver than me, so I think whatever you do will be for the best. All I ask is that you tell me who the hell did this to you, so I can personally see to his castration and tragically violent death."

Rose chuckled at her dad, and patted his arm consolingly. She couldn't help but feel that her parents were being uncharacteristically kind to her. Perhaps they were not eager to demolish what fragile sort of understanding they had reached tonight. Rose was okay with that. Their answers had been good enough for her.

"I think I came to a decision a long time ago, but I just wanted to hear what you thought of it." Rose took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm not keeping it." Rose held her hand up when Grandpa Weasley clearly showed signs of protest. "I understand Grandpa, that it is a life. And no one values a life more than I do. My job description is literally: save lives. But Grandpa, I don't think I could live with myself if I brought this child into this world. Basically, Grandma Weasley covered it all. But this kid wouldn't have a good life with me. It would be shunned and I really don't think I want to have a child only to have him or her wish death upon himself or herself. I don't expect you to understand, but please, for my sake, try to." Rose heald her Grandfather's gaze for three whole minutes, before he dropped his head with a sigh.

"I understand your reasons Rosie, and I respect them. But I still don't think it's the right thing to do. But it is your decision, and I will stand by it." Rose felt a rush of gratitude towards the wizened Weasley, and allowed a full smile to grace her features. She mouthed a small thank you to him from across the coffee table, and he smiled back in return.

And almost as soon as she had decided to come, Rose got up to say her goodbyes. She kissed Grandma Weasley on both her cheeks, thanking her for the wonderful dinner and promising to come around more often. She hugged Grandpa Weasley so tight, that he came up wheezing with laughter. She even decided to hug her parents; something that hadn't happened since she was 12. She hugged them cautiously, reservedly, as if a hug too tight would send them back into the state of silent angry indifference they had become so accustomed too. Or at least, what Rose had become so accustomed too. She kissed them on the cheek nonetheless, and promised to keep in touch more. A promise she sincerely hoped she would keep.

She waved her last goodbyes before Apparating away. Though she was tired, Rose still had one more stop to make before finally calling it a day.

~:-:~

Hermione watched as her only daughter waved at her, before disappearing into the night. She then realized that she was left with her husband and her in-laws, and suddenly felt extremely apprehensive. She turned around and gave Mr. and Mrs. Weasley hesitant smiles.

"I think I've intruded for long enough here, I better be on my way," she nervously tucked a few frizzy strands behind her ears and pushed her glasses higher up her nose so that they rested tightly against her face. "Dinner was as amazing as I remember it Mrs. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley, thanks for those new coffee grounds. I'll try them as soon as I get home." She looked down at her feet and felt the heat rise to her cheeks. They all stood there for a full minute before Hermione realized that she probably wouldn't get a response. She sighed inwardly, resigning herself to the fact that she had really screwed up. She had purposely not said anything to Ron, because what was there to say? "So I'll just be going then," she said, turning on her heel. And that was when the strangest thing happened. Someone pulled her wrist back into the house, and she felt herself being pulled into someone's arms. One deep breath was all it took to know who it was, and before she knew it, her own arms went up to wrap around him.

It was amazing how time could vastly changed a person, yet left them just the same. He still smelled of freshly mown grass, honeysuckle, the aftershave that all Weasley men used, and home. Oh how she had missed him. "Don't be a stranger," he said softly as he released her. She looked up to see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with badly repressed smiles on their faces. And when she felt the tears coming, she knew it was time to go. She smiled up at all of them before finally leaving.

Hermione knew that things were far from all right, but this was a start.

* * *

**Ok I didn't actually mean to have a Ron/Hermione subplot, but here it is nonetheless. Oh well, who doesn't love some Rermione, amirite or amirite?**

**There's gonna be some Sorose action in the next chapter though! (woo)**

Review, Review, Review! :)


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